


Camp Fire

by Ariomeo



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Camping, F/M, Fluff, M/M, One-Shot, headcanon name for sniper, no team color mentioned, smores
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 20:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14922395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariomeo/pseuds/Ariomeo
Summary: You and Sniper decide to roast some marshmallows together on a night off.





	Camp Fire

You opened up the camper door, looking out into the dark night. You looked back at Richard, who effortlessly picked up his large backpack. He caught your eyes as he turned around and offered you a wide smile. You smiled back at him and he walked towards you, pecking your lips as he passed and jumped out of his van. You grabbed your hoodie, pulling it over yourself, and following after him.

Outside, the light from inside the car illuminated this secluded area of the desert as Richard put down his backpack, pulling out a flashlight, or how he liked to call it, a torch. He flicked it on and held out his other hand out for you. You walked over, grabbing his larger hand. (It was always quite warm, and you enjoyed that.)

You both wandered around for a bit, and looked for dried wood, Richard found most of it, as you were more or less caught up in the breathtaking view of the sky. Once enough wood was collected, you carried it back to the van. You neatly set it down on the dry, hardened ground for later use.

Richard scuffed his boot on the ground until a sizeable divot in the ground was created. Under his breath, he seemed to be mumbling things to himself in that gravelly voice of his. You smiled at that and bit your lip to hold back an amused noise. He would never admit that he talked to himself, even though he did it all the time. Once he was satisfied with the hole he took a step back.

You picked up some big rocks and started laying them around the soon to be campfire pit. Richard did the same, and soon, you had a smaller campfire pit all prepped. He put the wood in and arranged it carefully. With a bounce in your step, you rushed back to the camper, and pulled out the matching fold-out chairs, and carted them outside, setting them up next to each other near the campfire spot.

Richard was on his hands and knees, blowing softly on the embers licking at the balled up newspaper. They started burning the wood and he stood, wiping off his pants. He looked at you pridefully, and you smiled walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Good job, Richy, you’ve conquered man’s oldest ally and enemy.” You stepped on your tiptoes pecked his cheek. He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and lifting you up slightly.

“Wot? No kiss on the lips?” He muttered playfully. You dramatically sighed and closed your eyes, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

“Better?” You asked, running your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He followed your lips and kissed you once more.

“Betta,” He agreed, putting you back on the ground, “How about we roast some marshmallows, now? Oi even got those weird ones you loike so much.”

You pulled out of his embrace and scoffed.

“They are not weird, thank you very much. They’re literally just puffed sugar. None of that gelatin crap.” You flicked his chest and turned around. He quirked a smile at your dramatics.

“Whateva you say, darl’.” He cooed. The corners of your mouth turned up, but you kept walking back to the camper, you crawled up into the back and rummaged through your backpack of clothes that you kept in there. You pulled out a beanie hat and pulled it over your head. Desert nights were pretty cold. You paused before throwing your shared blanket over your shoulder and grabbing a sweater out for Richard.

He was much too proud to grab one for himself. He would rather freeze to death than admit discomfort. You jumped back out of the camper, and walked over to the chairs, pushing them together and dropping the blanket over the shared armrests. You walked over to Richard, who was sharpening a stick with his trusty Kukri. Had he been keeping that in his backpack? What? That thing didn’t have a sheath.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. Where did he get those sticks anyway? You were gone for like only a minute. 

“The marshmallows in your bag?” You asked him, he hummed an affirmative and blew on the edge of the stick, which was sufficiently pointy now. He stuck the dull side in the hardened earth and picked up the stick’s pair. The fire was crackling now, devouring the dry wood greedily.

You put a hand on his forearm, stalling his movements. He looked up at you and you showed him the sweater. He sighed and took off his hat and his vest, sticking his kukri in the ground and rested his hat on top the handle. You bunched the sweater up around the neck and pulled it over his head, messing up his hair. He pulled the sleeves on and you took his vest. 

“Thanks, love.” He muttered and you smiled at him but decided not to say anything about his too-tough ego.

He placed his hat back atop his head and pulled his kukri out of the ground, continuing to sharpen the second stick. You walked back over to the camper tossing his vest in. Then you went back to the chairs, opening up his backpack and taking out your soon to be snacks.

You opened the bags and sat down in your seat, cozying the blanket around yourself.

Richard came with his sticks and handed you one, he sat in his chair and you covered his lap with the blanket. Being close to the fire, you both burned the end of your sticks to sanitize them. You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder.

He chuckled and kissed your temple. You pulled back your stick and waited for it to cool before sticking on your marshmallow. 

You stuck your marshmallow near the fire and glanced over at Richard’s stick. He had put on three and was currently burning all of them. You snorted.

“Richy, what are you doing? You're burning them!” You teased. He rolled his eyes.

“Wot? I loike ‘um loike that. Crispy on tha outside and gooey on tha inside. That's tha best way!” He defended. You chuckled.

“Whatever you say! But you better eat ‘em!” You nudged him with your elbow.

“I will, I will.” He grumbled, nudging you back. You turned your marshmallow over, reveling in all its golden brownness.

He pulled his black marshmallows back, reaching down and picking up the bags and setting them in his lap for more convenient use. He constructed his burnt smore and hummed in satisfaction at its completion. He crunched into it and made a pleased noise.

You scrunched up your nose but said nothing more. You checked your marshmallow and finding it to your liking, you pulled it back and set it in between your sugary crackers and chocolate.

You slowly enjoyed your sugary treat and looked around at the circle of golden light cast in a flickering halo. Above, the stars were splayed across the sky brightly. Richard followed your eyes to the stars and smiled.

“S’pretty, ain’t it?” He asked. You nibbled your smore.

“Yeah,” You sighed, snuggling into his side more, and ignoring the hard plastic arm of the chair digging into your side. He looped an arm around your shoulder and rested his cheek against your forehead. His stubble tickling you a bit. You sighed and watched the golden light soften his features.

“Hey, Richy?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

"I love you, too.”


End file.
